


Like Father, Like Son

by torino10154



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Bestiality, Dirty Talk, M/M, Oral Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-15
Updated: 2008-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-03 22:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torino10154/pseuds/torino10154





	Like Father, Like Son

_**Like Father, Like Son**_  
**Rating:** NC-17, Harry is over 18  
**Word Count:** ~2300  
**Summary:** AU: Harry is drunk. Sirius is drunker.   
**Warnings:** Anal, Oral, Dirty Talk, Bestiality  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. They belong to JKR. Although I doubt she imagined they'd be doing this.  
**Beta:** Thanks always to [gryffindorj](http://gryffindorj.insanejournal.com/) for moral support and feedback. Thank you to both [red_day_dawning](http://red-day-dawning.insanejournal.com/) and [jadzialove](http://jadzialove.insanejournal.com/) for beta reading on short notice. Any mistakes than remain are my own. Written for [ides_of_march](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/ides_of_march/).

 

Harry knew he'd had one too many. Maybe more than one. In his line of work, he needed a release, a way to wind down so he didn't bring his work home with him. Today they had been investigating the death of a Squib child and it was all he could do to get through the interrogation without strangling the mother. Didn't she realize how precious her son was, whether he was magical or not? He squeezed his eyes shut and thought of his own parents' sacrifice. As soon as he could, he had headed straight to the bar.

Tumbling out of the Floo into Grimmauld Place, Harry landed arse first, which actually wasn't all that unusual, but the way it made his head spin, turned his stomach over and he very nearly vomited on the sheepskin hearth rug. That wouldn't have gone over very well with his godfather, he thought as he rummaged in his robe pocket for an anti-nausea draught.

Sirius kept the rug there to remind himself of Remus, who had stood between Sirius and a nasty looking curse thrown by his cousin Bellatrix, all those years ago. Harry didn't think Sirius ever got over losing James, then Remus just after they had found each other again. Harry moved in with Sirius after Voldemort was defeated, assuming eventually one of them would find someone and move away. But instead, they were bachelors—eating take out, drinking to excess, and wanking alone.

The prospects were few, even for The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Queer. He had nothing against Muggles, but there were so many things one could do with magic and Harry hated having to Obliviate his lovers. Of course, wizards of his acquaintance all wanted a piece of the Chosen One. A particular piece, in point of fact. He could understand the desperation of some to touch fame, to be able to say, 'I fucked Harry Potter!' but he didn't have to like it, and he didn't have play into it.

Once Harry swallowed the draught, he slowly righted himself. He was still quite drunk, but he felt he deserved the blinding headache he would wake up to the following morning. It was part of his ritual, his punishment. It was only then that he realized his godfather was watching him from the doorway, silhouetted by the light pouring in around his tall frame from the kitchen.

Sirius was extremely attractive, but Harry tried to quash those feelings down. It was more than inappropriate and Sirius had never let on that he might be open to the idea. Harry felt he might even be taking advantage of him, since he was more or less trapped at Grimmauld Place, and Harry was free to come and go as he pleased. Only when Harry was very, very drunk did he allow his mind to entertain the possibility.

Like now.

His cock twitched.

_Shit._

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Harry said, "Sirius," his own voice booming in his head. "Why are you still up?"

Sirius held up a nearly empty bottle of firewhisky and grinned. If Harry was drunk, Sirius was shit-faced. Perhaps that was why he was leaning heavily on the door frame.

"Let's get you up to bed before one of us falls down," Harry laughed in spite of the fact that it really wasn't very funny—the blind leading the blind. He walked slowly over to Sirius and took the bottle from his hands, setting it on the nearest flat surface. Harry stood under his godfather's arm and wrapped it around his neck, wrapping his own arm around the man's waist. Harry hadn't reached Sirius's towering stature, but like his father, had gained quite a bit of height after age seventeen.

"I'm not that drunk, Harry," Sirius began to chuckle. "Although I'm not about to complain about a warm body pressed against mine."

"Now, I know you're drunk." Harry tried to keep his tone light, but if this were anyone but Sirius, he would probably take him up on anything he could offer.

"Sssmell good, too," Sirius slurred as they turned and headed clumsily toward the stairs.

"Shut up," Harry said affectionately. They both smelled of whisky, to be sure, but there was a scent in the air—something heady, musky. Harry shook his head, which made it spin. He stopped for a moment and leaned against the banister, steadying himself.

Even if he didn't regret it, he was sure Sirius would be appalled in the morning. It wasn't worth ruining their relationship for one drunken fuck.

After too many stairs, running into several door jambs, knocking over a vase, and awakening Phineas Nigellus, who they had moved out into the hall since Harry preferred his privacy, they finally arrived at Sirius's bedroom. Harry pushed him through the door and Sirius fell on the bed heavily, his shoes hanging off the edge.

"Help me undress, Harry," Sirius murmured. "I hate sleeping in jeans . . . not enough room for my prick." Harry tried not to laugh.

Harry pulled off each shoe easily, dropping them on the thick rug with a thump. He took off the wool socks and then looked at Sirius. Maybe he could leave without undressing him, as he seemed to be sleeping. He started backing away and was nearly to the door when Sirius stirred, "Harry?"

"I'm here." He walked back over to him and lifted his legs, pushing them onto the bed. He reached up and began unbuttoning his godfather's blue oxford cloth shirt. His hands trembled as he revealed the pale skin illuminated by the weak candlelight. He wanted to kiss his way down the smooth chest, lave the dusky nipples.

Once he reached the bottom button, he realized belatedly, that he was in fact a wizard and could have easily undressed the man with magic. He reached into his pocket for his wand to finish the job, but Sirius's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. Harry gasped at the firm grip.

"Are you alright?" Harry leaned down closer to him, and suddenly, Sirius pulled the arm he was holding and with the other reached behind Harry's back to drag the Auror down on top of him. Harry half-heartedly tried to get away, but all that did was rub their bodies together and Harry squirmed all the more.

Finally, fighting through the haze of his drunken desire, he said, "Sirius, stop. You'll regret it in the morning."

"I've always wanted you," Sirius mumbled and kissed Harry's flushed cheek sloppily, before moving one of his hands to Harry's arse and squeezing it. "Will you regret it? Spending the night with your pathetic, old godfather?" he snickered, but then thrust up against Harry, and they both moaned at the friction. Reluctantly stilling their bodies, Harry looked down and met Sirius's gaze.

"I may be drunk, Harry. But I know what I want." He reached up and threaded his fingers through the hair at the nape of Harry's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Harry closed his eyes and was swept away by the intensity: Sirius's tongue probed every corner of his mouth, then sucked Harry's tongue into his mouth, and nipped at his lips until they were red and swollen.

For his part, Harry bit Sirius's earlobes, licked wide stripes across his neck and collarbone, brushed his fingers across his nipples, tweaking one and then the other until they were both tight and aching. When Harry took an abused nipple into his mouth and bit gently, Sirius hissed. He quickly rolled them over and had Harry pinned to the bed.

"Clothes off," Sirius said, his voice dark and inviting. Harry reached for his buttons, but Sirius said, "No, let me." He reached for his wand and trailed it along Harry's shirt, the buttons opening as the wand touched them each in turn. Finally, Sirius's warm fingers brushed the shirt aside and traced Harry's chest, his fingers occasionally twisting in the sparse hair around the younger man's nipples.

Sirius's weight was on Harry's groin and he wriggled, trying to get more contact to his aching prick.

Sirius laughed. "So eager. I knew you'd be." He paused and leaned over Harry, his long hair covering both their faces. "You're so much like your father." Harry groaned.

Emboldened by his reaction, Sirius continued, "Did you know I fucked him? He liked to get dirty with me."

"Please," Harry whispered, his hands roaming up and down Sirius's bare torso. He fingered the ribs before settling his hands on the man's waist. Sirius took Harry's hands and set them on his fly. Harry didn't need to be asked twice. He undid the button and slowly pulled down the zip. Sirius rolled off Harry and shucked his jeans in one smooth motion.

Harry crawled over to Sirius and wrapped his hand around the long cock, his mouth beginning to water just a little. It had been so long since he'd been with someone. He licked across the head taking in the salty essence and Sirius bucked up off the bed.

"Fuck, Harry." Sirius grasped Harry's hair and pushed him down. Harry opened his mouth and took Sirius down to the root. "You're better than your old man ever was." He fucked Harry's mouth and continued rambling; his drunkenness loosening his tongue.

"Your mum, she was uptight," Sirius muttered. "Wouldn't let Prongs near her until she was sure he was serious. He had to get laid somehow. But he wasn't really into blokes. I was convenient."

Harry began rolling Sirius's balls with his free hand, the other stroking the base of Sirius's cock as he sucked. "Oh, that's good."

All too soon, Sirius tugged Harry's hair to pull him away. Harry gave a final lick and sat up. Sirius pushed him over on his stomach and called out, "_Accio_ lube."

"What's a bit of a shag between dorm mates anyway? You fucked each other, didn't you?" Sirius probed Harry's arsehole with two slick fingers as he bit Harry's neck, each vertebrae receiving a lick as he worked his way down to Harry's arse. The burn was exquisite; Harry pushed back against Sirius's fingers, begging for more.

"Only Dean. Couldn't fuck Ron." Harry breathed out, his body shaking as Sirius stretched his tight hole. "He's like my brother."

"James was like my brother, too. Better than my brother, come to think of it," Sirius barked a laugh, and then pressed against that sweet spot inside Harry, causing a jolt of electricity to flood Harry's willing body.

"I'm ready. Just fuck me," Harry begged. Sirius removed his fingers and Harry moaned at the loss. But he quickly felt Sirius's blunt, hard cock nudge his opening. Sirius thrust against him without entering several times and Harry was going mad with need, arching his hips to meet Sirius's thrusts.

"Your father used to beg, too," Sirius whispered as his prick entered Harry roughly before pulling out again. He thrust hard into Harry, his body draped over his back, their sweat slick bodies sliding together rhythmically over and over. Harry braced himself against the headboard, Sirius's hands digging into his hips painfully. Harry whimpered. Sirius ran his hands over Harry's flanks, drew his fingers through the sweat on his chest and the curls at the base of his cock.

"But do you want to know what he really loved?" Sirius asked, pulling Harry completely flush, his arm wrapped around Harry's chest, one hand squeezing his shoulder. "What he begged me to do?"

Harry only moaned, imagining Sirius fucking his father, while his father begged to be taken. His throat was dry and he couldn't reply. He only shook his head.

Sirius plunged into him and pressed him flat against the bed and growled, "He loved it when _Padfoot_ fucked him."

"What?" Harry cried out. His dad liked to be fucked by Padfoot. There was no mistaking the unspoken question. Sirius wanted to transform.

Sirius continued fucking Harry, slowing his pace. He thrust into Harry smoothly, languidly, unhurriedly.

Harry squeezed his eyes closed; he had no idea what it would be like. His cock, however, throbbed its approval and to his surprise he said:

"Yesssss."

Before Harry even could register he'd spoken, the slick body above him morphed into something warmer, furrier. Paws pressed his shoulders to the bed, the sharp breastbone digging into his back. Padfoot was panting hot and wet in Harry's ear. He occasionally licked Harry's sweaty body, which made him want to laugh at the tickling sensation.

But Padfoot's cock—oh, Merlin! Harry couldn't believe how good it felt to have something so big inside him. He raised himself up on his knees a bit and the angle was perfect and Harry reached for his own cock and began stroking himself in time with the thrusts.

Then something changed. Padfoot stopped thrusting and his prick felt like it was expanding inside Harry. He saw stars as it pressed hard on his prostate. But it continued stretching him and then Padfoot thrust again and Harry thought he was going to explode from the intense pressure, the fullness of the huge knot inside him.

"Oh, oh, oh fuck, fuck, Sirius!"

Then he felt his insides coated with hot fluid and just the thought of it—the idea that he was fucking a dog, that his father had too, that it was Sirius, his godfather—made him come harder than he ever had in his life. And his arse clenched around Padfoot's prick and the dog howled and Harry saw black.

~*~

 

Harry's head felt as if it was full of rampaging Hippogriffs. The bed creaked but Harry hadn't moved; as if hit by a ton of bricks Harry remembered where he was. He cracked his eyes open and saw his godfather, apparently slumbering peacefully. Maybe if he left quietly, they wouldn't have to have the dreaded "why last night was a huge mistake" conversation, until he'd taken a draught to ease his aching head.

Just as he turned to climb out of bed, Sirius reached for his wrist and said, "Stay, Harry."


End file.
